Fire!By: Memory DragonDisclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, nor do I make any claim to. I also don't own this song.Characters: Tenth Doctor/Simm Master, Donna, vats of chocolate.Warnings: Chocolate. Lots and lots of Chocolate. And just a bit of crack. Rating: PGNotes: Written for the best_enemies Drabble Challenge "Chocolate Factory and/or Mars" for both prompts. Yes, I do know Brits like those silly little Smarties better, but I figure Donna would know what M&M's are anyway. Also, you don't know how hard it was not to have the Master say "The other Time Lords always liked you best!" Just be glad there's no room for it, since I'm pretty sure the majority of Who fandom is so not going to get it...

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The Mars Company hadn't been the Doctor's first choice for visiting a chocolate factory. Switzerland was the place to go for chocolate, he'd always thought. Either that or Hershey planet. This wasn't even properly on Mars, but some place in China, from what he could tell. But the moment he stuck his head out and mentioned where they were, Donna had pushed past him saying she wanted M&M's, taking off before he could blink. The Doctor was left muttering about companions who didn't understand the phrase 'Don't wander off.'

It was the middle of the night too, so he didn't see how Donna would explain herself if she came across a security guard. With a sigh, he set off after her, hoping she wouldn't get into too much trouble before he found her.

He had somehow managed to stumble into the factory part of the complex, wondering to himself where the guards were. The Doctor had to admit that the giant vats of chocolate were quite impressive though. He estimated them to be about thirty feet deep, and he contemplated reaching under the rails to dip his finger in for a quick taste. Donna would tell him off for it being unsanitary, but she was the one who ran off and left him unsupervised. He could probably just about reach...

"Fire!" a familiar voice shouted over the soft hum of machinery.

The Doctor's head immediately snapped up, his hearts skipping a beat. It couldn't be. That person was dead. He had died in the Doctor's arms on the Valiant. He... was apparently frantically calling out about a fire.

"Help! Fire!"

The Doctor took off at a run, trying to locate the shouter. He couldn't smell any smoke, or even burnt chocolate. He whipped his head around, unable to see anyone on the catwalks overlooking the vats of chocolate. "Master?" he called. "Where are you?"

He was met with silence, the low hum of a nearby generator the only sound. No Master, no voices yelling about fire, and no fire either. The Doctor felt his hearts break a little. He should have known better. His shoulders slumped. "Of course not. Must be hearing things," he said to himself. He sniffed, running his hand through his hair as he tried to compose himself. Donna would tell him off for imagining things that weren't there. Imagining things like a faint splashing of someone treading water.

Waaait.

The Doctor looked down into one of the nearby vats of chocolate. What he saw was frankly impossible, but that was as good a word to describe the Master on any given day really. The Master was, in fact, not dead, but rather covered in chocolate and trying to keep his head above the liquid as he attempted to scowl at the Doctor while wiping some of the sugared mixture out of his eyes. The Doctor was, quite rightly, staring with his mouth hanging open.

"Are you just going to stand there and gawk? Your face will get stuck like that," the Master said, his tone bored.

"You're alive!" the Doctor said, not sure what to make of that fact as his brain spun out of control.

"No, I actually stopped breathing a month ago and turned into a chocolate zombie." The Master attempted to splash the chocolate at him, but he was, unfortunately, too low in the vat for it to do anything but hit the walls. This only served to infuriate the Master further.

"How are you alive?" the Doctor asked. His grief from that day had been overwhelming, but now, here was the Master, swimming in chocolate. Two of the things he was admittedly wanting most. Well, not the Master swimming in chocolate, but the Master and chocolate, which lead to a lot of other thoughts that were hardly appropriate at the moment.

"Are you that stupid to not realize I had a contingency plan?" the Master asked.

"Not one that usually works," the Doctor replied, unable to keep the grin off his face as the initial shock wore off. Really, he didn't need to hear the Master's twistedly brilliant plan when there were other more important things to discuss. His normally super sonicbrain was still catching up. "So, why are you in a vat of chocolate then?"

The Master went silent, the only sound was him treading water and the quiet hum of machinery. "It had to be you that heard me..." he growled, quietly enough that the Doctor barely heard it.

"Well?" the Doctor asked again, even more curious.

"I fell," the Master responded, summoning what remaining dignity he could while completely covered in chocolate.

"You fell?" the Doctor asked, disbelief strong in his voice. He poked at the rail in front of him. "There are rails. Nice ones. Very sturdy. Some of the best, even. It's surprisingly high quality for something that was probably made by the lowest bidder. The workmanship looks to be about from the late 90's and-"

"I fell," the Master stressed, refusing to budge.

"Okay," the Doctor said, drawing out the word thoughtfully. He decided it wasn't worth it to push, not when this alone was good enough blackmail for decades. Besides, another question clouded his mind. "Why did you yell fire when you fell into the chocolate? It's a little ridiculous."

This, at least, the Master was willing to talk about. "Because no one would get me out of here if I yelled 'chocolate.'"

"Donna would beg to differ." Though it did make an odd sort of convoluted sense, what with this being a chocolate factory. There was so much of it in this room alone that make people wouldn't come running when there was plenty more of it closer. Though 'help' should have been more than sufficient. Trust the Master to come up with the more complicated option.

"So are you going to stand there doing nothing or are you going to get me out of here?" the Master snapped, choking a little as he accidentally swallowed some chocolate.

Shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels, the Doctor considered the problem. He peered over the rail and looked around. The level of the chocolate was lower than normal, leaving the top of the vat too high for the Master to pull himself out of. He could probably just barely reach the Master if they both stretched. "Are you asking me for help?" the Doctor said.

The Master's eyes narrowed as he tried to find a way around it, but he looked too tired to hold out on his luck for someone else to come along and drag him out. How long had the Master been in there? His voice did sound a little hoarse. He absently tapped a beat of four on the side of the vat before answering the Doctor, "I hate you."

"You never could move past the 'pigtail pulling' stage," the Doctor said with a huff. "Well?"

The Master seethed. "...Yes."

The Doctor debated asking the Master to say it again, but louder, but then he'd be bringing himself down to the Master's level and he took pity on him in the end. "All you had to do was ask," the Doctor said as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the very nice rail. He wasn't talking about just chocolate vats, either.

"I don't need your help or pity," the Master said He made a sad sight as he tried to rub some of the chocolate out of his face again to glare.

"I still give it," the Doctor replied, wishing he could get the Master to understand. He just wanted to help. "Master, the drums-"

"Just get me out of here."

The Doctor sighed, kneeling down and ducking under the rail. He grabbed the nearest bar and reached out as far as he could. "Grab my hand," he said, trying not to think of how messy this was going to be.

The Master's fingers just barely touched his, not enough for him to get the grip he needed. He loosened his grip on the rail to give himself a bit of extra reach, and this time the Master kicked up enough that he got hold of the Doctor's hand. His grin of triumph was short lived, unfortunately, because gravity pulled both the Master and the precariously balanced Doctor down.

There was a large splash as the Doctor fell into the vat of chocolate.

The Doctor pushed back to the surface, gasping for breath as the brown liquid dripped down, sticking to his skin in a very unpleasant fashion. He wiped his eyes clear the best he could, looking around desperately for the Master. He'd fallen down on top of the Master, pushing the other man down into the chocolate... "Master!"

He heard, more than saw, the Master surfacing as he coughed and tried to breathe. The Doctor swam over, pulling the Master against him and helping him stay afloat. "Use your respiratory bypass," he said.

"I know that, you idiot. You can't even-" The Master was interrupted by another coughing fit. The Doctor paid the insults no mind, patting the Master's back as best he could while treading chocolate. "Easy," he said. "Just hold onto me and I'll keep us both afloat."

When the Master finally stopped coughing, he glared weakly at the Doctor, chocolate dripping down his face as the Doctor held back a laugh and tried to help wipe it away. "How long have you been in here, anyway?" the Doctor asked, once they'd settled.

"Yue sent the guards away an hour and twenty minutes ago," the Master said moodily, not pushing away from the Doctor. It spoke miles for how tired he was.

And it also explained why there were no security guards. "Yue?" the Doctor asked, feeling ever more intrigued.

The Master leaned against him, in mock exhaustion. It was an obvious attempt at manipulation, but the Doctor didn't push, not when he was pretty sure it wasn't far from the truth. "Alright," the Doctor said, hugging the Master. "Just hang on to me. I'll do the swimming for a while. Donna should find us eventually."

They floated in silence for ten minutes, and the Doctor was starting to doubt the validity of that statement. He hoped Donna would find them soon. It was difficult to keep both of them from drowning in chocolate, and not to mention it was sticky. His hair was plastered around his face and any thoughts he might have had with the Master covered in chocolate weren't quite as entertaining when he was covered in it too. All he wanted now was a shower.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they both heard the click of a door over the soft whirl of the machinery. "OI! Spaceman!" a positively angelic London accent called out. "You in here? There are giant chocolate bunnies trying to take over the government!"

"I was supposed to be leading them! But that little idiot wanted me out of the way," the Master said, his voice more sulky than the time the Doctor's project had won the temporal causality science far.

Well, that explained a lot.

The Doctor sighed as the Master called out "Fire!" again. Donna was never going to let him live this down.